


Caught Me Thinking

by stylesforstiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, fluff fluff fluff, hockey player louis!, niall sells snap backs for fun, perrie is the fun girlfriend, smitten boys, trophy boyfriend Harry!, zayn and liam also play hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesforstiles/pseuds/stylesforstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn't think he liked hockey...that was until he realized Louis played it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught Me Thinking

Louis had a love/hate relationship with summer training camp. He loved that he got to see his teammates again, some of them old, some of them new from recent trades, plus he got to play hockey, which he didn’t want to brag about, but he was pretty fucking good. However, the hate came into play because he didn’t necessarily keep up with his workouts on his time off (meaning he didn’t do any exercise at all), and seeing how they didn’t make the playoffs last reason, he had even more time to waste his days away on a sandy beach drinking anything and everything that the waiters would bring him.

Needless to say, Louis was really feeling the elusive ‘burn’ right now. He really fucking loathed squats and he hopes whoever invented them was currently suffering an eternity in hell doing a constant loop of squats. Sumo squats even. He glared over at Zayn, who hadn’t even broken a sweat yet, and now that Louis thought about it, he doesn’t think he’s even seen Zayn break a sweat during one of their games. Louis was convinced he was some sort of black magic unicorn; because how the fuck his chain smoking, Dolce and Gabbana model looking arse got drafted he will never know. And the fucked up thing is that he was really quick and agile, one of the top goal scorers in the league, which again made no sense to Louis seeing as on their days off Zayn was one of the laziest arseholes he had ever met.

Then there was their goal tender Liam, who looked like he had spent their time off bulking up and hulking out. It looked like his muscles had mutated or something, it was mad. Louis was almost certain he was flexing his abs on purpose with every squat he did, and it was fucking bullshit. A thought which he decided to share out loud.

“This is fucking bullshit,”

Zayn bent over to stretch, casting him a sideways smirk. “What, no time to work out between drinking your face off and banging pretty little cabana boys, Lou?”

Louis dropped to the mat, lying out on his back for a moment to catch his breath before their next drill.

“I really regret telling you anything ever,” he grumbled. He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his palm. “And since when do you keep up with training on your time off?”

“Since Perrie made me join Soul Cycle with her,”

Louis caught the faint blush on his cheeks, and shook his head in disgust. “What the fuck is Soul Cycle?”

Zayn sat down on his own mat, fiddling with a loose string on the hem of his shorts. “It’s an expensive new term for stationary cycling. You should come with us sometime, there’s some really fit guys in there.”

Louis reached over to pat his leg. “How many times to I have to tell you; you and Pez don’t need to troll for guys for a threesome, my offer still hasn’t expired, Zaynie.”

Zayn gave his hand a hard smack. “No one is ever going to take you up on that offer. Ever. I don’t even know where you got this idea from.”

Louis shrugged, lying back down once more. “You don’t know what we talk about on our girl’s nights out,”

Zayn gave a resigned sigh. “Whatever man, just try and keep the threesome talk to a minimum. Oh yeah, and can you come shopping with me after this, I need to get a bowl.”

Louis turned his head, cocking an eyebrow. “A bowl? What kind of bowl?”

Zayn covered his face with his hands, mumbling into them, “A decorative bowl okay, don’t say a fucking word.”

….

Louis was still laughing about it as they walked up the street to a flea market that Zayn insisted they visit after none of the stores they went into had anything he deemed acceptable for his new apartment.

Louis paid the entrance fee, wiping tears of laughter away from his eyes. “Zayn, it’s a fucking bowl, why is this so hard for you?”

“Because I want my flat to look put together you twat, not a mishmash of crap like someone else I know.”

Louis drew a hand to his chest. “If you are speaking ill of my Iron Man statue, I will have you know he is deeply offended.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “I’m going inside to have a look, you’re on your own out here.”

Louis watched him walk away, pulling out a smoke that he was positive he wasn’t allowed to be puffing on in here, but Louis could probably guess how many fucks he gave. Louis huffed a little, mumbling ‘rude’ under his breath. He never asked to come to a flea market, OR shopping for that matter, but he was here now, so he might as well wander around he check out the endless tables of junk.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his shorts, wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles, stopping to buy a couple of comics for him and Zayn, even though he didn’t deserve them right now. He was humming quietly to himself, wishing that he had brought a hat along with him to keep his sweaty fringe off his forehead.

He noticed a table of snap backs at the end of the aisle he was in, but no one was currently at said table. What the hell, was this like a serve yourself kind of deal? Louis was contemplating the selection of hats when he finally noticed the guy at the table next to it.

He was smiley brightly at the girls who was going through the collection of bracelets on his table, pointing out different versions and colors, going over how he made them, and all Louis could do was stare, transfixed on his fingers…they were…long…like really, really long. And covered in an absurd amount of rings, to go with the absurd amount of bracelets on his arm; and the absurd fedora on his head, and really everything about him was absurd.

He was leaning over the table, which offered the entire world a view of his chest, because apparently buttoning up shirts all the way wasn’t one of his hobbies. Which was just rude really, Louis thought to himself. This hipster version of John Mayer was just plain rude. Louis wasn’t openly staring at his tattoos either, except that he was and why the fuck was it so hot out all of a sudden? He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater and glanced at the vast array of bandana’s sitting at this blokes table, and Louis really didn’t want to have to resort to buying one of those because he would look like a complete dickhead.  

Hipster John Mayer must have noticed his distress, as his voice drew Louis out of his Bruce Springsteen nightmare.

“Can I help you with something, or are you waiting for Niall?”

Louis blinked his eyes a few times, startled by the velvety sound of his voice. He just smiled up at him, all fucking white teeth and twinkling eyes and a shot glass sized dimple, and Louis really needed to stop blatantly staring.

“Oh, um, yeah I was just looking to buy one of these hats, my hair is quit shit right now."

His smile remained as he tilted his head to inspect Louis. “I can’t say I agree with you there, but Niall should be back in a minute, he just ran to the loo.”

Louis pretended to be very interested in the bracelets on the table, instead of acknowledging the pink he could feel in his cheeks.

“S’lot of bracelets you’ve got here. You make them yourself?”

He nodded. “That I do.”

“Hmm, crafty,” he pointed a finger at the bandana’s. “What’s with these then?”

He laughed, petting at the pile absently. “What, you not a fan of a good head wrap?”

Louis picked up a bracelet to inspect it closer, darting his eyes at those wide green ones. “More like not a fan of looking like a massive twat.”

He bit his lip, smiling down at the table, when Louis heard his name being chirped out behind him.

“Holy shite, Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis turned on his heel to face an ecstatic looking blonde bouncing on the heels of his high tops.

“Yes?”

Blondie ambled up to him, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “Oh fuck me, I’m a huge fan! You guys were fucking amazing last season!”

Louis laughed, shaking his hand back. “Yes, accept for that whole getting kicked out during the first round in the playoffs,”

He waved it off. “Ah fuck it, you’ll get em’ this season.”

Hipster John Mayer was watching them curiously. “Not to be rude, but are you famous or something?”

Blondie reached over and smacked the brim of his fedora. “Harry, he’s only the best fucking right winger our hockey team has ever had,”

Harry pouted, adjusting his hat back on his head. “Hey now, it’s not my fault I don’t follow hockey, Niall.”

Ah. The mysterious snap back table owner Niall. And now Louis had Hipster John Mayer’s name as well. Niall chortled, folding his arms across his chest.

“Right, I forgot you had that weird no violent sports thing,” he shook his head at Louis, thumbing over at Harry. “You should see him when we’re at the pub, can’t even look at a scrap on TV. He’s a vegetarian too you know, again, the whole violence thing.”

Louis watched as his cheeks heated up to a tomatoey red. “Okayyy Niall, I think we get it, I don’t like violence. Why don’t you actually do your job and sell him a hat.”

Louis was quite fascinated now. He really didn’t care about the hat anymore, but he did need to get going.

“Yeah sorry, I actually wanted to grab one of your hats if you don’t mind, ‘fraid I have to head out,” he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “How much?”

Niall shook his hands out in front of him. “Oh no, I don’t want any money, just pick one. On the house.”

Louis tried to shove some bills at him, but he wasn’t having it. He resigned and grabbed one of the hats, plunking it on his head.

“Cheers, but you’re sure I can’t pay you?”

“Nope, just take it. I only do this because I have loads of shite in my closet that’s been collecting dust and taking up space, and my roomie here isn’t a fan of messes. I have a job at the arena, that’s how I’ve seen all your games.”

Louis flashed him a toothy grin, shaking his hand once more. “Oh, very cool, guess I’ll see you around then.”

He started to back away, giving Harry a salute. “Nice meeting you Harry, who knows, maybe I’ll see you again too.”

He went back out to the front to wait for Zayn after he messaged him that he was finished, and was already plotting how he could justify another trip to the flea market…maybe every weekend.

*

Harry was still thinking about Louis the fit hockey player when they were having dinner at the pub later that evening, wondering how he could casually bring him up with Niall without seeming too interested.

Harry took a sip of his beer, licking the excess of his lips. “So, that hockey player Louis was pretty decent, hey?”

Niall dragged his eyes away from the TV, his face scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

Harry grit his teeth, wondering why Niall had to be so dense sometimes. “I mean, he was nice? Sometimes those jock types can be total pricks, right?”

Niall’s face brightened in acknowledgement seemingly pleased that Harry wanted to talk sports with him for once. “That’s mostly footie player’s, but yeah Louis was cool. A lot smaller in person than I thought he would be actually.”

Harry picked at his coaster, glancing up briefly. “He any good?”

“He’s fucking brilliant,” Niall boasted around a mouthful of chips.

Hmm, okay. Harry really wanted to know more though. He hesitated on his next question.

“Um…so is he like…married or whatever?”

Niall choked on his beer, snorting out laughter. “Whadda weird fucking question, why the fuck would he be married?”

Harry threw his hands up, exasperated. “Why is it weird? These sporty types always have wives and girlfriends, I was just asking!”

Niall was still suffering a fit of laughter. “Jesus, Harry, calm down. Why all the questions anyways…” Niall narrowed his eyes, leaning over to look Harry in the eyes, who was steadily trying to avoid them. “You like him!”

Harry sat back in the booth, sighing loudly. “I do not, I barely even spoke to him.”

Niall of course, did not believe one bit of his lie. He wagged his finger back and forth in Harry’s face.

“Harry fancies a hockey player, Harry fancies a hockey player!!”

Harry quickly glanced around, slapping a hand over Niall’s mouth. “Oh my god, what are you twelve, shut up!”

Niall pried his gigantic hand off, shaking his head at the size of it before dropping it back on the table. He smiled innocently at Harry, leaning his face in closer to him.

“Harry fancies a hockey playerrrr,”

Harry’s head dropped to the table in defeat. “Jesus Christ.”

Niall cackled loudly, reaching over to mess up the curls at the back of his head. “Aww, Harry, I get it. He’s like mega fit, who could blame you. I bet his arse is rock solid, it has to be with all the training they do and…”

Harry raised his head, glaring at him. “Was that visual necessary?”

“Oh right, sorry.”

Harry gave another long sigh. “It’s fine, it’s not like I’m actually going to see him again.”

…

That was until the next weekend when Louis came sauntering up to his table, looking ridiculously hot in snug grey jeans and a fitted blue t shirt that made his eyes look an insane color, accompanied by a guy who Harry couldn’t tell if he was pouting on purpose, or if that’s just the way his face always looked, which either way was absolutely obscene.

He stood up quickly, doing a mental inventory of what he had on – okay, he had his black skinny jeans on without the holes for once, his red plaid shirt that Niall told him he looked totally fuckable in, which maybe they needed to talk about their friendship boundaries, and he thinks he might have washed his hair sometime this week, but fuck it, it was under his fedora anyways.

He slapped a huge smile on his face, clasping his hands behind his back. “So you came back then,”

Louis smiled as well, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I needed to get a few presents, then I remembered how nice your bracelets were. So, here we are,” he nodded his head to the side. “This is Zayn. We play together.”

Zayn gave him the obligatory ‘hey man’ while checking out the selection in front of him. He pointed to one, waving at Louis to come over. “You think Pez would like that?”

Louis hummed his agreement, patting him on the back. Harry spoke up. “That stone is actually used for love,”

Louis bumped his shoulder against Zayn’s. “Sucker for love this one. Now, how about something for four bratty sisters?”

Harry nodded, turning around to grab a box behind him. “I actually just designed these here if you want to have a look.”

…

By the time they were finished, they had bought way more than they needed to, which had Harry mumbling his appreciation.

“Wow, you guys really didn’t have to buy all that. I don’t think I’ve ever sold this much to be honest.”

He noticed a look pass between Zayn and Louis that had Zayn rolling his eyes and waving goodbye to him.

“Thanks again Harry, I’ll let you know how the lady of the house likes it.”

Harry gave him a thumbs up before turning back to Louis. “How long has he been married?”

Louis snorted, messing about with the pile of bandana’s. “He isn’t. May as well be though. He is the definition of whipped.”

Harry glanced down at his hands. “You sure you don’t want a bandana as well, you seem to be quite fixated on them,”

Louis darted his eyes back up at him, a smirk quirking up the sides of his mouth. “I kind of am if I’m being honest…I’ll tell you about it another time though.”

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Holy shit he was attracted to him. “Oh yeah?”

Louis hesitated a moment before continuing on.“Well the thing is Harry, I don’t really feel like spending the rest of the summer at a flea market, so I’m just going to put it all out there, and please tell me to fuck off if I’m way off base here…but would you like to go to dinner with me?”

Harry finally let out the breath he was holding. “You mean like tonight?”

Louis looked at him in surprise. “Do you _want_ to go tonight?”

Harry really wanted to kick himself, or have Niall come and kick him for sounding so god damn eager.

“I mean…yes. I really do.”

…

If Harry thought he was eager, Louis was almost just as bad, if not worse. The fact that he had dragged Zayn back to the flea market again so soon was a true testament to this.  Except that was a lie, and it was Zayn that had dragged him back, because after a week of hearing Louis mooning over Harry he couldn’t listen to him anymore.

“Lou, I don’t want to hear any more of your bandana fantasies, and when I say I, I do mean Perrie and I,”

Louis shot a disgruntled look over at Perrie. “ _Hey,_ what happened to the code, I don’t tell Zayn about all your dirty little secrets”

Perrie walked over to the couch, handing him off a beer. “Your fantasies are extremely elaborate and detailed; no one needs that much information, babe.”

Louis tore at the label of his beer right away, because clearly he was sexually frustrated by now.

“Can I talk about his hands then?”

“NO,” they both shouted simultaneously.

“Ugh fine, you both suck. I’ll go ask him out.”

...

Which, hooray, Louis is glad that he did. Because now he was sitting across from him in a dimly lit Italian restaurant, and Louis doesn’t know if there was some sort of Cinderella bullshit at work right now, but Harry had fucking transformed into a tower of sex. Okay make that leaning tower of sex, because he had terrible posture from what Louis had noticed. But hiding under that fedora had been an enormous head of hair, an incredible curly mess that Louis was itching to get his hands on. Not to mention the black jeans that left nothing to the imagination, and the dress shirt that was once again buttoned but not at all. 

Louis just kept nodding politely as Harry spoke, while images of all the various sexual positions he wanted to get Harry into danced throughout his mind. He was suddenly brought back to reality by the mention of Pilates. 

“Wait, what was that?”

Harry paused the wine glass that was almost at his lips. God, look at those lips…Louis shook it off. No, god is testing me is what he’s doing.

“Oh, I was just saying you guys should really incorporate Pilates into your training, there are a lot of good pelvic exercises to keep your core strong.”

Louis stared at him. Yeah let’s steer this conversation away from Harry and his pelvis. He cleared his throat for about a million years, before choosing a different topic.

“So let’s see, we have Pilates, you’re a vegetarian, you seem to know about crystals and stones and the like. Seems you’re just a proper little hippie aren’t you, Harry,”

He smiled into his wine. “I guess you could say that. I’m also very into cats.”

Louis groaned, his fork clanging against his plate. “I knew you had to have a flaw, Harry. Cats, really?”

He giggled at Louis’ outrage. “Come on, what’s wrong with cats? They’re so soft and cuddly!”

Louis picked his fork back up, pointing it accusingly. “No, _dogs_ are cuddly, that’s why they’re called man’s best friend. Cats are nothing but spawns of the devil, scratching up furniture, and babies Harry, they can’t even be trusted around them. Need I go on?”

“Heyyyy my cats are wonderful; Adam, Larry, The Edge and Bono have never done anything but be perfect little angels.”

Louis massaged his fingers against his forehead, looking over at Harry through his fringe. “Harry…did you seriously name your cats after U2?”

Harry gave him a wide, doe eyed look. “Yes?”

Fucking hell. Louis desperately wanted to kiss him all over his insane face. Because he was insane. Adorably so.

“I honestly don’t know what to do with you.”

Harry curled his fingers at him indicating at him to move closer, and Louis tried not to pass out from his wicked thoughts on where else he’d like those fingers to do that. Harry’s face was inches from his, his eyes roaming Louis’ face, a soft, sneaky little smile teasing on his horribly plump lips.

“Why don’t you take me home and you can figure out what to do with me there.”

Louis was surprised he didn’t break an ankle trying to scramble out the restaurant door.

…

Now Louis wasn’t usually much for being manhandled, mostly because he was pushed around all the time on the ice, but the moment they got to his flat and Harry had him pinned to a wall and attached that luscious mouth to his neck, he could really care less.

Harry had eventually gotten them onto his couch, his lithe body wrapped around Louis’ as he straddled his lap, using his hips in a way that Louis could only describe as sinful. He grabbed a handful of Harry’s curls and tipped his head back, kissing along the warm column of his neck, causing Harry to let out a breathy moan. Louis panted against his neck.

“Try not to kill me tonight, okay? I’d really like to do this again, plus I’d like to make it to at least one of my hockey games this season,”

Harry pushed him back against the couch, giving him a filthy little smirk, his lips swollen an almost candy apple red.

“I think I’d quite like to stick around to see you play,” he leaned down, sucking Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth. “Plus, I really want to ride you while wearing one of your jerseys.”

Well…that’s probably the hottest thing anyone has ever said to him.

Louis was going to die.

*

As it turns out, Louis did not die, but Harry did keep him pretty active during the weeks leading up to the start of the season, not only with the most athletic sex he’s ever had, but Harry also dragged him to a Pilates class, and tried not to laugh while Louis whined on the mat next to him.

“I think I’ve hit the peak of my homosexuality by going to Pilates and Soul Cycle all in the same week,”

Harry bit back a laugh, concentrating on the leg lifts he was doing. “Yeah, but think about the fantastic shape you’re going to be in once you start playing next week.”

Louis shrugged, abandoning his workout to watch Harry, because that was so much better. “I’d much rather think about taking those tiny shorts off you later.”

“ _Louis,_ ”

He rolled a little closer to whisper more dirty, sweet little nothings into Harry’s ear, assuring himself that he would never be invited to Pilates again.

He wasn’t.

…

As soon as the season started, Harry made the transition from not knowing anything about hockey, to being Louis’ biggest cheerleader, which Niall took much delight in torturing him about during Louis’ first away game that they were watching at a pub around the corner from their flat.

“God you are such a fucking WAG Harry, when did this happen to you?!”

Harry tore his eyes away from the screen giving Niall a funny look. “What’s a WAG?”

Niall smiled even bigger. This was great. “It stands for wives and girlfriends, I thought you knew that. You know, like a trophy wife,”

Harry spurted on his beer, slamming it back on the table. “I am _not_ a trophy wife, I’m just being supportive of my _boyfriend._ ”

“Sure you are. He takes you to nice dinners, you go to all his games, you’re wearing his jersey…face the inevitable, Harry. You’re a trophy wife, sorry, husband in the making.”

Harry pulled out his phone, chewing on his lips as he mumbled to himself. “I am not, I have my own money.”

Niall shuffled into the seat next to him, leaning over to see who he was texting. “Sure you do, but you don’t work for a living…who are you texting?”

He tried shrugging away from him to read the message he just received. “S’not my fault I have a trust fund…oh for fucks sake…”

Niall grabbed the phone out of his hands, howling when he read the message.

From Pezza: Trophy husband? I’d say you’re well on your way love! Xx”

…

He went to Louis’ flat as soon as he got back from his road trip, and at least waited until they had ‘hey I missed you a fuck of a lot’ sex to bring up the subject that he had been obsessing over.

He trailed a finger over Louis’ taut tan stomach, feeling the press of his lips against his hair.

“Hey, Lou…am I a trophy husband?”

He tilted his head up to look at him, only to be greeted by a confused look on his face. “I don’t know; did you get married or something while I was away?”

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, it’s just everyone keeps telling me I’m a WAG, because you take me for nice dinners and I go to all your games and whatever…”

Louis grabbed his chin, turning his face to look at him. “Harry, so what if I take you out? It’s not like I’m buying your clothes, though to be fair I should probably start seeing as you only own one pair of jeans.”

“Ha ha, maybe you can become a comedian if this hockey thing doesn’t work out,”

Louis’ chest vibrated with laughter as he pulled him closer, peppering kisses along his forehead. “Oh baby, you’re so easy to tease. But as I was saying, you have your own money, and even if you didn’t, who the fuck cares? I _want_ you at all my games, so if that makes you a trophy boyfriend, oh well.”

Harry searched his eyes, cupping his hand against Louis’ cheek. “Really?”

Louis leaned in for a kiss, moving their mouths together in a way that was so them, a way that always left him craving more and more Harry.

“Absolutely. Fan girl it up all you want Styles, no one looks better in that Tomlinson jersey than you.”

…

So that’s exactly what he did. He went to every game sporting Louis’ name across his back, cheering so embarrassing loud sometimes that the fans that were sat in front of their private suite turned around to flip him off. Harry stuck his tongue out at them as Perrie pulled him into her side, hugging her arms around him.

“This is so much better than last season!”

Then there was the case of Louis’ first fight that had Harry almost near a breakdown until they got home, where Louis got them both into bed and assured Harry that he was just fine. He made sure to really drive his message home by using soothing words…and his artful tongue.

“See baby, I told you I was fine. I wouldn’t have been able to make you come so hard if I wasn’t.”

“Okay, okay Lou, no need to get cocky now,” Harry got out through his raged breathing.

“I’m sorry, did you say you want my cock now?”

Louis was really good at having a dirty mouth as well.

…

The press was usually pretty quiet about their relationship; that was until the day Harry brought Niall to the suite where they proceeded to get extraordinarily hammered. Harry ended the night with cheerleading pom poms, no shirt and Tomlinson 17 scrawled across his bare chest, all Niall’s doing of course.

Harry woke up the next day with a pounding headache and Louis sitting on the end of the bed holding out a cup of tea to him and the morning paper’s sport section.

Harry took in the picture with wide, horrified eyes, quickly looking back at Louis. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry…”

Louis walked over and cut him off with a hard kiss. He kissed him once more before stepping back, shrugging his shoulders with a soft smile.

“Don’t be, it’s probably the most exciting to happen to the sports section in a while. Plus, everyone has a cheerleader fantasy, Harry, so you better have kept those pom poms.”

That’s when Harry knew he was in love with him.

*

The rest of the season blew by in a blur of Harry, hockey and more Harry, with Louis making him come to away games with him as well now that they were in the playoffs, because he thinks that Harry was kind of their good luck charm. He was also really fucking in love with him.

The look on Harry’s face when he told him as much made it all even better.

“So, you love me hey? Even with all my crazy cat shenanigans?”

Louis nodded, standing up on his tip toes to hug his arms around Harry’s neck. “I think I can overlook the cat thing because you’re so good in bed,”

Harry picked him up and spun him around, which got him a surprised squeak out of Louis.

“Did you hear those sweet words world? I’m the luckiest trophy boyfriend in the whole wide world!”

Louis reached down to pinch his side. “Don’t make me take it back, Harold.”

He felt Harry’s lips at his ear, his voice a soft murmur. “Too late, you love me.”

He really, really did.

…

Louis was on the ice being picked up by Zayn, Liam and the rest of the team. He couldn’t fucking believe it. They had actually won. They won the cup. His heart was beating out of his chest as his teammates crushed each other around him.

He turned towards the stands and saw Harry, Niall and Perrie all jumping around and hugging each other and felt his heart tug in his chest. He wanted to celebrate with Harry now, but they needed to get through the ceremony first. Everything felt like the longest thing ever at this moment.

They finally made it back to the locker room, everyone piling out fairly quickly after they showered and changed to go out and hit the town to celebrate. Louis waved as they filed out, saying he would catch up in a bit as he pulled his clothes out of his locker.

He was startled by a pair of hands on his waist, quickly relaxing when he settled into the familiar grip. He let Harry turn him around, and waited as he beamed at him, leaning down to place the softest of kisses on his lips.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you were so good out there. Love you so much,”

Louis pulled him down closer, opening his mouth for a deeper, dirtier kiss, humming against his lips.

“Mmm, me too baby, love you. But hey, remember what you told me when we first got together?”

Harry furrowed his brows, thinking thoughtfully until it finally dawned on him. His mouth spread into a wicked grin.

“Where’s that game winning jersey at then,”

And hey, if Harry rode him in that jersey in the locker room just like he said he would, well it would be their little secret.

…and maybe Perrie’s too. Girl code and all that.

 

FIN


End file.
